Harry Potter's Spring Break
by nak425
Summary: This isn't bad for my -what?- third week of writing fanfics. Not my personal fav, but that's ok. It's about Harry having difficulties, and there's no nasty stuff anywhere.


Harry woke up and looked at his glowing clock-radio. 3:30 AM, April 1st. He sighed, turned over, and went back to sleep.

When he woke up next, he was disoriented. Where were his curtains, his friends' beds, his dorm…? He remembered and winced as Aunt Petunia's voice rang shrilly through his door. It was spring break at the Dursleys'. "Harrrrrryyyyy! Wake up!"

He had resigned himself to another day of Dudley's torture when Uncle Vernon wandered in. He grunted, "Leaving in five minutes, boy. You're leaving before us. Be ready."

For a moment Harry's mind was confused. Then, he realized it was the day of his shopping excursion with Ron and Hermione! Yay! He said, "Aren't you driving me?"

Uncle Vernon looked about to explode. "You told me you could arrange your own transportation. You're magic now, don't need me…" He trailed off, still mumbling and glaring.

Harry uneasily recalled his boasts about how good he was at magic, how he could do whatever he wanted to Dudley, about all his friends and their magical families. He also recalled how he had sent an enthusiastic letter back to Ron via owl post, all in support of the shopping trip, but had not arranged a ride, whether by car, Floo powder, or anything else. Then he remembered the Knight Bus. "All right, Uncle Vernon. I can probably do that." He thought of Ernie and Stan, and was not sure at all about that.

"Damn right you're going to, boy."

Harry walked out of the room and grabbed his money. He also took the opportunity to tell Hedwig that he wouldn't be back to feed her today, so he fed her then and apologized for not letting her out to hunt or anything. She clacked her bill, irritated, and ruffled her feathers. Harry petted her and ran back out at Uncle Vernon's yell. Dudley was walking down the stairs, still in pajamas. Harry said to Uncle Vernon, "So much for leaving in five minutes."

"Shut up, boy! I want you out of here as soon as I can manage, and don't pretend you want to be here, either, you ungrateful wretch!"

"You're right. I don't want to be here. Bye everybody." Harry walked out, ignoring the sounds of outrage behind him - Aunt Petunia's shrill chattering, Uncle Vernon's deep roars, and Dudley's whining. He stuck out his wand hand and jumped back.

Nothing happened.

He stuck it out again, for longer before jumping back.

Nothing.

He stuck out both hands, then one, then the other. He stuck out each foot in turn. He even walked into the street, feeling an awful sense of doom come over him; he was sure the bus would come and run over him. Nothing happened. Frustrated, he growled, and jumped up and down in the middle of the street, sticking out his wand hand.

He had just reached the point where he was about to start screaming when a beefy hand grabbed him from behind. Uncle Vernon spun him around and snapped, "I'll take you. Don't make an ass of yourself. At least not any more of one then you already have."

Harry, bewildered and ashamed, followed Uncle Vernon back to the car, getting in and ignoring Dudley's imitations of him in the street. Dudley cackled. "It looked like he was dancing! Were you doing a _magic_ dance, Harr… Yeeek!"

Uncle Vernon had pinched him. He said, staring balefully through bloodshot eyes, "We do **_NOT_** say that word in our house. The m-word. Never again."

Dudley rubbed his upper arm reproachfully and slid into the car. "Why do I have to go, Dad? It's Harry's friends, not mine. I'm not going anywhere in the city. I don't _wanna_-"

Uncle Vernon cut him off brusquely. "If you shut up, when we get to the city, I'll buy you that new computer game your friend just got. OK?"

Dudley's eyes lit up. "Really? The Mario™ Monster game? All right!" Uncle Vernon shot him A Look, though, and he shut up, though he kept poking Harry.

Harry ignored Dudley and gave Uncle Vernon directions to a street about a block away from the Leaky Cauldron. Uncle Vernon dropped him off and roared off the second Harry told him to pick him up at 9:00 tonight. Harry began walking. He didn't see anyone he knew. When he got to the place he thought the pub was at, he stopped, confused. He didn't see the Leaky Cauldron. Yes, there was the music store… And the other store… But only a small alley at the end. At least there was a brick wall at the end. He shrugged philosophically. Maybe the pub only appeared if you or someone you were with was old enough to drink. He wasn't there to drink anyway. He walked to the back of the alley and said the words to open the gate to Diagon Alley. First he tried it without his wand. Then he tried it with his wand, looking around surreptitiously before pulling it out. He tapped the wall with it, said the words. It didn't open. He looked furtively back at the street - no one was looking at him. Maybe it was because they could see him if they looked and they might find it odd that the wall was moving. He moved out of sight of the street and tried again.

It didn't work. As his frustration with the Knight Bus, Diagon Alley, and his magic built up, he found himself screaming the words. He beat his wand and fists against the wall, and didn't even notice when someone came in and tentatively asked if he was OK. He didn't notice when they called the police, and he was curled up in a ball, crying, by the time they came, put him under arrest, and took him away.

His eyes cleared up as he was manhandled into the police car. He sniffled for a minute or so, then gingerly tapped on the bars separating him from his captors. "Um. Excuse me? Where are we going?"

"We're takin' y'in, lad. You're a disturber of the peace, y'know." The cop had a strong Scottish accent.

"Why? What did I do?"

"You don't remember?" This time it was the other cop, the one not driving. He twisted around to stare at Harry. "You were screaming in an alley, and the proprietor of the music store next to the alley called us to take you away. You were disturbing her customers. A lot of them, judging by the crowd around you. My guess would be that a lotta people are gonna be hanging out there now, hoping something else interesting is gonna happen."

Harry remembered fine. "I'm sorry. I was…at a party, and…someone spiked the punch. I got out before I got too much, but no one else wanted to leave. I took a little walk, and when I came back they were gone, stupid fickle people. 'Friends.' I tried to walk home, but I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. The wall was in my way."

The Scottish cop answered. "All right, lad. Where d'you want us t'drop you off? Hurry."

Harry was firm. "King's Cross Station. I can get home from there."

The other cop, still turned around, raised his eyebrows. "You weren't too far from King's Cross when we saw you."

"I'm sorry. I was really confused. I'll grab a coffee or something to clear my head and head on home. I'll also call my friends and see why they weren't there." A murderous light was in his eyes. Yes, he would find out, and it wouldn't be pretty.

They dropped him at King's Cross. "Good luck, lad."

"Thanks. Bye!"

He walked to Platform 9¾ and, looking around, walking straight into the wall. He fell down. Dizzy, he looked around and said, "Is this Platform 9¾?"

A security guard bent over him. "Are you all right? There is no Platform 9¾. You are between Platforms 9 and 10, if that helps."

"No, it doesn't."

"I'm sorry. Can you stand?"

"Yes." He tried, and sat abruptly back down. "No."

"I'll just stay here for a minute or two, then. All alone? Or with family? Or friends?"

His questions reminded him of Ron and Hermione. "My friends were supposed to be somewhere else, but I couldn't get in. I was hoping they would be able to find me here. But right now, yes, I am alone. I hope they get here soon."

The security guard said, "Yes, well…I hope you find them soon." After a minute, he asked again, "Can you stand?"

Harry tried again and didn't fall down. "Yes. Thank you so much." He smiled.

The guard smiled back. "You're welcome. Don't run into any more walls." And he left.

Harry put out his hand and gingerly shoved the wall. It didn't move, or melt away. "Damn," he said, and walked out. He walked to a coffee shop outside the train station. He sat down with a cup of coffee, unconsciously rubbing his scar. Was it Voldemort that had closed him off from the wizarding world? But how would he have known that today he was going to visit Ron and Hermione?

Could he read minds? Harry sat and nursed the coffee as he thought hard about what had happened. No, he finally decided. That couldn't have happened. Yet, at least. He would have felt _something_. Surely. Oh, who was he kidding? He probably could, and had been, too.

There went any chances of his keeping any kind of secret…at least until Voldemort died, which would be a long time, to say the least.

He stood up, deciding _I'm going to take one more shot at the platform and one more shot at Diagon Alley. Then I'll give up and shop somewhere else until it's time for Uncle Vernon to pick me up._ He glanced at his watch. 11:18 AM. He sighed. Just 9¾ more hours before Uncle Vernon came to pick him up.

He tried for Platform 9¾ again before he left. Then, he left for the Leaky Cauldron. It wasn't there again. Trying to be inconspicuous because he was sure last time he was here wasn't forgotten, he slunk into the alley, tapping a few bricks before giving up. He slipped back out of the alley into the crowd, head hanging, defeated. He glanced back for one last hopeful look at the alley, and saw the Leaky Cauldron.

He did a double take, whipping his head around so fast that he ended up falling down. He fell flat on his butt and sat there for maybe thirty seconds before standing up and slowly making his way to it. He pressed his hand flat against the door. He felt the solid wood under his hands and was reassured.

He pushed the door open and saw Dedalus Diggle. "Harry Potter…!" he squealed.

Harry wearily smiled. "Yeah."

The barman hurried up. "Would ye like t'order sumthin', Mistuh Pottuh?"

Harry turned to him. "No." Then, feeling the need for an explanation, he asked, "Where were you this morning?"

The barman stared at him, clearly trying to figure out if Harry was mad. "We've been 'ere all day, suh. Ain't gone nowhere. Nevuh closed eithuh. Haven't closed for…lemme see now…'32...72 years. Not likely t'close again soon eithuh, no suh."

Harry stared at him. Inwardly, he was trembling with fear of the wizard that was powerful enough to have done that. _It must be Voldemort that closed the wizarding world to me! But why did he stop?_ Outwardly, though, he was very confident as he said, "Thank you. I've got to go meet my friends now. See you all later."

Dedalus Diggle squeaked, "Goodbye, Harry Potter!"

Harry trembled as he walked out back behind the Leaky Cauldron. He tapped the right brick and they all formed themselves into an archway. He was a few steps into Diagon Alley, hardly believing he was there at last. Then, he heard Hermione's voice. "Harry! There you are! We've been searching all over for you! We've got to get our stuff and we only have nine hours now! Why weren't you here on time?"

She halted beside him, her cheeks pink, Ron trailing behind her. Ron was grinning, like he had a secret he was bursting to tell. Harry knew. So, instead of answering Hermione's questions, he asked Ron, "What?"

Ron grinned even wider and shouted "April Fools!" and fell about laughing. Hermione's eyebrows rose.

Harry said, the edges of his vision going pink, "You stopped me from getting into the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley?"

Ron nodded and laughed.

Harry asked, in a carefully level and dangerous voice, "And you stopped me from getting into Platform 9¾?"

Ron, not noticing the warning signs, nodded, looked up, and cracked up again, apparently at Harry's expression.

Harry, his fingers twitching to get themselves around Ron's neck, leapt at Ron, intending to beat him into the ground. Ron got out of the way just in time, eyes wide. Hermione screamed and begged Harry to stop, she would explain April Fools Day better, stop, stop…

The last thing Harry head for a while was Hermione's "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

When he came back from unconsciousness, he was in St. Mungo's. Hermione walked in and held up a _Daily Prophet_. The headline was:

Harry Potter Psychopath!

Tries to Strangle Friend

As Harry met Hermione's eyes, he knew that this would be the last time he was listened to. The Dark Lord would eventually take over, without a leader for the resistance.


End file.
